A Thousand Paper Cranes
by Chaos Ride
Summary: The legend of a thousand paper cranes put to use in a hospital room.


**So this is took about three hours to write, and I just got around to typing it. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own MR, otherwise I wouldn't be mad at my ipod app about the new book. Stupid Dylan....**

**Warnings: I think it's sad, but that's just me.**

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The hospital room was unbearably quiet, save for the whir of the multiple machines and the beeping of the heart monitor.

"There's a chance she won't wake up." Nobody looked at the doctor, instead they were all focused on the frail body that was almost lost in the white, uniform sheets on the bed.

Taking the opportunity that was presented, the doctor slipped from the room.

"A thousand paper cranes." A small, child-like voice squeaked.

Everyone stopped, obviously puzzled by the statement.

"Excuse me?" Iggy finally asked, hands flitting nervously across the hem of his t-shirt.

Angel gulped, cerulean eyes shining with a sad light as she spoke again. "A thousand paper cranes. It's an old legend that if you fold a thousand paper cranes, you get a wish."

Another silence draped itself across the room like a wet blanket; clinging to each individual person separately, making them all feel like they were suffocating.

"Do you even know how to fold a paper crane?" Everyone was amazed Fang was even considering it.

The seven-year-old's shoulders drooped, and no verbal answer was required.

"I do." It was the first words Gazzy had spoken since the incident, and they were so quiet, the statement could almost pass a gentle gush of wind.

The boy didn't explain any farther, instead he simply plucked up a stray sheet of paper from the table by the chair, folding it with crisp, precise movements until a small, delicate bird rested on his outstretched palm/

"One down, nine hundred ninety nine more to go."

--

Later, when Nudge returned with food, they also had packages of brightly colored paper, and some markers to write numbers with.

Gazzy had taken the time to teach each of the seperately how to make paper cranes. Nudge had barely finished her first one when Angel folded her last fold on her second one, making five to Gazzy's two as Fang was learning to add to the collection.

--

They were in the four hundreds now, and to Angel, each crane was a different work of art, using markers to make each bird unique. Sometimes, her tally was a part of her design, but most of the time the number wazs simply put on the underside of the wing and circled.

"What number are you on now?" Nudge asked, peering up from her crane. They had decided to each keep up with their own individual counts, having decided together that it would be easier to do that then add them all up.

"One hundred and three." The small girl mumbled, eyes drifting momentarily to the prone figure of her leader, who still looked entirely too breakable.

"We're getting there." Iggy interjected, hand groping for the marker he _knew_ was somewhere nearby.

'_We'll do it, Max. I swaer'_

--

Three weeks had passed, and they were only up by three hundred more cranes. The doctors were saying that the chances of her waking up was getting slimmer with each day that passed.

The fifteen-year-old's skin was ashen, and had taken on a grayish tone.

"It'd be easier on _everyone_ if you pulled the plug now." One of them told them one time, his sad eyes showing he had been through this before.

--

"We're only at nine hundred thirty. We'll never make it by tomorrow morning." Fang whispered, hands tightening until his knuckles were white, and the cheap plastic of the calculator squeaked in protest at the abuse. They were doing it, just what the man had recomended. Hadn't they suffered enough?

They couldn't put it off any longer, and the flock (soon to be leaderless) had decided on a date to pull the plug.

The cranes weren't finished yet, and it was the night before the date.

--

Gazzy was awoken at about three in the morning by the shining of a flashlight from the padded chair nestled in the corner that he knew Angel had been in.

"What're you doin', Ang?" He asked sleepily.

"It's done." The girl mumbled, staring in awe at the small bird in her hand.

Gazzy gently pried the folded paper from his younger sister's hand, staring at it with trepidation.

It was the same size as all the other, but the design was breath-taking. The wings on the bird had been drawn so realistically, the boy expected them to start flapping. The feathers stopped at the shoulder joint,, transforming to all of their names in flowing cursive that wrapped from the neck to the tail feathers.

Instead of a full face, the only thing on the bird's face was two chocolate brown eyes that seemed to almost have a human glint in them.

"It's still not enough." He mumbled.

Angel arched one sunshine eyebrow before she motioned to the table next to her chair, which was stacked high with paper birds.

"I just kept up the tally at nine thirty, since everyone else gave up." Angel whispered.

Gazzy flipped over the bird still in his hand to look at the underside of the wing, shocked to see that it had the fabled number actually there.

_1000_

"You make the wish then." He whispered, trying not to wake the others.

The slow, steady beeping of the heart monitor echoed in the sibling's head as Angel considered how to phrase her wish.

"I wish.... I wish that Max won't have to suffer anymore."

They both knew what this meant.

What was life without running, walking, flying?

Because Max wouldn't be able to any of that anymore. She would be paralyzed from the waist down, and her wings were crippled. What would be the point.

"Night, Angel."

--

In the morning, the girl had already flatllined, and all the paper cranes were thrown out the window.

Angel and Gazzy didn't mention their late night wish, but Angel kept the last paper crane.

Her wish had been granted.

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**Ah, it's done! Please review and tell me what you think.**


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